


The Moments In Between

by stargazerdaisy



Series: BUS Moments [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff, Fun, Goofiness, Romance, Team Bus - Freeform, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of the missing scenes on The Bus.  Light, sweet, fluffy moments in between all of their adventures.  It will include all of the Team Bus characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Better Get Some Better Beats

**Author's Note:**

> Skye is dying during training. It's SO boring. Can't they listen to music or something?

Ward rolled his eyes for probably the 16th time that morning alone. “No, Skye. We do not need ‘wicked tunes’ to train. They will not be motivational, they will be distracting. Now, please, can we focus? You keep dropping your elbows.”

“Buuuuuut Waaaaaaard,” she whined, and it was an exceptionally obnoxious whine. “I’m bored out of my mind here! How am I supposed to remember my elbows when I can only think of what dangerous experiments FitzSimmons are doing, not even 25 feet from us, or the fact that we’re 35,000 feet in the air and the only thing keeping us from crashing is a ninja who has never spoken more than 47 words to me in the entire month I’ve known her?”

Words cannot accurately describe the skepticism on his face. “You did not just try to pull the whole we’re-on-a-plane card, did you? I distinctly remember you squealing in excitement that you got to live on a plane.”

“Well, it was great in theory, but are you trying to tell me that the idea of being seven miles in the air has never once bothered you? That you feel completely at ease with only Coulson’s Captain America collectibles to cushion us if, no _when_ , we plummet to our doom?”

Ward took a deep breath in through his nose, resisting the urge to also pinch it. “Fine,” he ground out. “We can turn on some music, but you are doing an extra 5 pull ups, and I get to decide on what we listen to.”

The high pitched shriek reached his ears about half a second before he found himself with an armful of bouncing hacker. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!! I knew you had a heart after all, Robot! I’ll go grab my iPod!”

“No way,” he grabbed her wrist before she flounced away. “Mine is right here and I know exactly what we’re going to listen to.” 

Skye wanted to huff and insist she had the best music, but she knew her victory was tenuous and wasn’t about to risk him taking it back. So she kept her mouth shut as he plugged in the music player to the speakers and fiddled with the buttons. Soon enough the sounds of Bon Jovi echoed through the cargo bay. She just smiled and quickly made sure to pay extra close attention to all his instructions that day. 

The next morning, she practically bounced in, holding her iPod up high. “I have the best playlist! A little Fall Out Boy, some *NSync, Britney’s always a great go-to.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Skye gaped. “Seriously? Come on! It’s really perfect, I swear.”

“Hey, I told you the rules. If we have music, I get to pick it.”

She grumbled under her breath.

“What was that? Did I hear you say you wanted to do extra push ups today?”

“Not at all!” she smiled mock-sweetly. “I was just commenting on how that won’t be a problem because my S.O. surely has the best taste in music ever.”

Ward smothered a chuckle and turned away to start the music, before focusing on their training routine. The next day Skye didn’t even fight it. They established a nice little routine of working out to Ward’s playlist. Skye was chagrined to find out it actually wasn’t that bad. Yeah, it was a lot of classic rock, but apparently it was classic for a reason. However, she was still determined to get something newer in there. She quietly bided her timing, watching carefully for the perfect opening, and…..she totally got caught. 

“Nice try, Rookie. You're going to have to work on your spy skills if you want to get past me. Now, back to the bag.”

Skye did not pout. She definitely did not. (Except that she absolutely did.)

Two weeks later she got closer. She'd actually managed to swap out the iPods without Ward noticing, but as soon as the new music started, he just looked at her. 

“What?” she asked innocently. 

“I think you know.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she replied haughtily. “Aren't we supposed to be training?”

“Oh trust me, you're going to be doing plenty of that today,” he promised before switching the music back. Skye grimaced, knowing she'd probably just earned herself an extra 3 miles on the treadmill. 

Desperate times called for desperate measures. She couldn't get her own iPod without him. So that left hijacking his and adding her own music. But this was going to require stealth she wasn't sure she'd learned yet. She recruited Fitz to distract Ward, so she could sneak into his bunk and ‘borrow’ his iPod. For once, Fitz maintained some degree of chill and challenged Ward to a poker game. Skye had more than enough time to snatch the iPod, make her adjustments, and get it back to its place in his drawer. (Ward’s insane levels of organization and order actually served her well because she could find it quickly and put it back without disturbing anything else.)

This morning, Skye was as groggy as ever when she dragged herself downstairs for training. The music was one of the farthest things from her mind as they started their normal warm up. It wasn’t until they were actually sparring, that she remembered she had supplemented his playlist. Nothing had come up yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time. That thought distracted her just enough for Ward to sweep her legs out from under her and knock her to the ground.

“Oof!” she huffed out, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. Just then, the music changed and she heard the opening bars of “Rollin’”. It was the moment of truth: would Ward notice? 

“Here, Rookie,” he said, reaching his hand down to help her up. “Remember, you have to stay focused. You can’t let anything distract you. Ready to go again?”

Skye just nodded, not wanting to give anything away about why she lost focus. But within 30 seconds, she’d been knocked on her ass twice more. Her SO just shook his head at her and called it good for the morning. 

“Go do your cool down stretches. We’re done for today,” he directed, sending her off while he turned to the punching bag. 

Skye was sitting on the other side of the cargo area, stretching, but watching Ward. He hadn’t noticed the music yet. It felt like she was holding her breath, waiting for a reaction. He always noticed everything! How was he not aware of this? And was he-? Yes, yes he was actually timing his punches with the beat of the song. It was all she could do to keep from laughing once she realized that. Somehow, she managed to hold herself together until the song ended and one of Ward’s came up again. 

“I’m gonna go hit the shower,” she called as she gathered up her stuff to head out.

Ward waved back to her, continuing to focus on the bag. As soon as she was out of sight, he started smiling to himself. Skye thought she was so clever, messing with his iPod, but really, like he didn’t notice immediately that his things had been tampered with. But he let her have this one. The music had been a nice addition to training, and it did seem to make her happy that she ‘got one over on him’. He could put up with a few songs if it made it easier for her. Plus, Limp Bizkit wasn’t actually a bad choice for getting psyched up to work out. At least she hadn’t gone with any of those hideous boy bands. 

(Those showed up a couple days later.)

(Skye only had to do an extra 15 pushups that day.)

(Worth it.)


	2. General Jemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, Jemma is the slave driver when it comes to cleaning. You'd expect Coulson or May, but it's Jemma that makes up the chore chart and enforces it. General Jemma they call her. Skye is not a fan of Cleaning Day, but there is no escaping it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because we all need a little fluff after the finale.

It was her least favorite day of the week. She groaned and pulled the covers up over her head. 

“You have to get up, Skye.”

“Sorry,” came the muffled reply. “There is no one here by that name. I'm not Skye, therefore I don't have to get up.”

“Nice try. If you're not Skye, then we have an intruder and I'll have to move you to the Cage. Now, up!” Ward ordered and yanked the blanket down.

“Hey! No fair.”

“Totally fair. And trust me, much kinder in the end. Remember that time she sent May in?”

Skye shuddered, remembering the bowl of ice cold water dumped on her one morning, by the nearly silent pilot. “But why did she have to ruin Saturdays? They used to be my favorite day of the week and now I hate them,” she pouted.

“I know, Rookie,” he sent brusquely, but not unkindly. “How about you get dressed and I’ll go see if I can snag the last Pop-Tart for you?”

A smile finally appeared. “Thank you.”

He returned her smile and quickly left the bunk. Skye grimaced once again, as she dragged her tired body out of her bed. She put on sweats and pulled her hair into a messy bun. No need to get dressed beyond that, since she knew she’d end up a sweaty mess, reeking of bleach cleaner. The promise of a Pop-Tart was enough to get her moving, just as much as the threat of another ice water bath, but neither could make her happy about the morning.

Saturday morning was Cleaning Day. It had become an immutable law on the BUS, only relaxed if they were actively on a mission (which didn’t happen enough for Skye’s taste). They’d all line up in the lounge area and be handed their assignments for the day. Skye had been given the same assignment several weeks in a row and she hoped she'd avoid it this week. 

No such luck. 

“Seriously, Jemma? The bathroom again? I've done for the last 14 weeks!”

“Yes, Skye,” she answered, with that patronizing tone you use with whiny children (which was remarkably appropriate). “Maybe if you would clean up after yourself in the bathroom during the week, the job could be rotated. But most of the mess is yours, so it's only fair. Plus it's only been the last seven weeks, so hush.”

Skye huffed a sigh and crossed her arms, jutting out her lower lip, but somehow had just enough to control to stop from sticking her tongue out. Barely. Jemma finished handing out the rest of the assignments and dismissed them to get started. May disappeared immediately, as usual. Coulson didn't look thrilled, but he put on his best “Go Team!” face before grabbing his supplies and heading off to the kitchen. That only left two people to possibly switch with. Skye looked around to see who she could pounce on first. 

“Oooooohhhhh, Fitzy!” she sing-songed.

“No way, Skye.”

“Come on, please?” she pleaded. 

“Not a chance. Last time I tried, I started retching and couldn't stop for like 20 minutes! So, no. That is all yours.”

“I’ll remember this when you need a favor!” she yelled as he strolled away. Turning her attention to the only other possible victim, “Ward?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me ask!”

“I know exactly what you’re going to ask and the answer is absolutely not.”

“But Waaaaard,” she whined. “You’re my SO! Aren’t you supposed to protect me from all the bad and scary stuff?”

He rolled his eyes. “Skye, cleaning the bathroom is not something you need protecting from. Like Jemma said, it’s mostly your mess anyway. And I already got roped into that once. Fitz wasn’t kidding. The hair everywhere is gross and I gagged. You’re on your own with this.”

To say Skye was displeased with this turn of events would be an understatement. She grumbled and muttered under her breath the whole way to the bathroom. She dumped the various supplies in the sink and looked around. So, maybe they had a point. There were quite a few brushes, makeup, and hair ties strewn across the counter. And there was a lot of suspiciously long and very dark hair in the shower. It wasn't a big room, but the four of them had to share it. (Coulson had a bathroom attached to his cabin and who knew what May used.) Okay, fine. A lot of the mess was hers. Still didn’t mean she wanted to clean it. But she’d also learned in the last several weeks that if she didn’t do a thorough job the first time, General Jemma would just make her do it all over again, the second time with a toothbrush. Skye shuddered, remembering what happened when Jemma made her do it a third time. It was time to focus and get this done, because she really, really wanted a nap this afternoon. Preferably on the couch, while watching a dumb movie. Regardless, spending her entire day cleaning was not on the agenda. So, she got down to work and scrubbed and wiped and swept and mopped for what felt like hours. 

Not for the first time, Skye wondered if she could talk Fitz into building a cleaning robot. She mentioned it once, but he just laughed her off. She was serious! Vacuuming robots existed, why not robots to clean the bathroom? It could even be considered a SHIELD asset, just part of the other gadgetry on the BUS. And if they were lucky, it could be adapted to clean the rest of the BUS. How on earth May always managed to get her chores do immediately, above and beyond Jemma’s unreasonable expectations, was beyond Skye. Not even Coulson or Ward had a perfect record. The first time Skye saw Coulson on his hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush, let’s just say it was a good thing that Ward was there to drag her away immediately. She almost fell over laughing. That would not be a good way to endear yourself to your boss. 

After a good, solid 90 minutes, Skye felt pretty confident in her work. The mirror was sparkling, there was nary a trace of hair anywhere, and the tub was shining so brightly, you could see your own reflection in it. She trepidatiously called Simmons to come inspect (because you do _not_ leave without passing the General’s inspection). Skye held her breath while Jemma examined everything. 

Jemma looked at everything seriously then turned to Skye. “Congratulations!” she exclaimed, a grin breaking out on her face. “It looks great! Nicely done, Skye.”

Skye sighed in relief and slumped against the door. This was the first time she had ever gotten it perfect on the first attempt. “Does that mean I’m good to go? Like, I don’t have to stick around and fix anything else?”

“You’re free, Skye. Off you go,” Jemma smiled.   
“WOOHO!!!” Skye punched the air as she skipped away. “ROBOT!” she hollered. “Get your ass over here, we’re playing Battleship!”


	3. The Importance of Sugar Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plate of sugar cookies appears in the lounge and no one knows where it came from. All they know is that they are the best frosted sugar cookies they have ever eaten and the yellow smiley faces need to become a regular fixture in their lives.

Coulson was walking through the lounge area one day, on his way to his office, when he spied something out of the ordinary. On the table was a plate full of yellow smiley faces. It caused him to stop and move closer to investigate. It was a plate of sugar cookies, decorated seemingly professionally, they were so perfect. He couldn’t remember anyone swinging by a bakery recently, and the kitchen looked as pristine as ever, so it wasn’t like anyone had baked them here. So, where had they come from? Coulson spied the telltale sign of crumbs around the plate, signifying he wasn’t the first one to discover them. Figuring he might as well, he grabbed a couple and continued on his way. 

Awhile late, Fitz and Simmons wandered in, arguing about some experiment they’ve been working on. Fitz froze in place and grabbed Jemma’s elbow.

“Simmons.” His voice was deadly serious, it startled her.

“What on earth, Fitz?”

“ _Look._ ”

She turned her head to see what he was fixated on. “O...kay…. There are cookies. What is the big deal?”

“But _why_ are there cookies? Where did they come from? Who made them? And more importantly, why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Does it even matter?”

“Yes, it matters! You’re telling me I could have been up here, possibly hours earlier, enjoying these delicious little morsels of heaven?” Fitz walked over the platter and promptly scooped up four cookies.

“Fitz! Honestly! Leave some for everyone else,” she admonished, grabbing two for herself.

He couldn’t respond because his mouth was too full of cookie. 

With a put upon sigh, Jemma grabbed her partner and dragged him back to the lab. 

 

That night at dinner, Fitz loudly said, “Thanks for the cookies, sir. They were fantastic.”

Coulson was startled. “What are you talking about?”

“The plate of cookies in the lounge earlier. Those delicious little morsels of sugary sunshine! They were amazing.”

“I know the cookies you're talking about. But I had nothing to do with them. In fact, I was going to ask where they came from? We'll need to stop at that bakery again, May.”

The pilot held up her hands, “Don’t look at me. They rocked, but I don’t know where they came from.”

Coulson blinked slowly and looked at everyone, blinking. “Well, we know Skye and Ward didn’t have anything to do with them, so-”

“HEY!” Skye piped in, indignantly. “How do you know I had nothing to do with them?”

Ward tried to put it delicately, “Skye, we’ve seen you cook. Spaghetti is supposed to be individual strings, not one big clump.”

Skye scowled at him. “I’ll have you all know that _I_ made those cookies myself.”

Everyone stilled and stared her. Jemma was the first to gather her thoughts. “Are you being serious, Skye?”

“Of course I am!” she huffed. “I know how to bake sugar cookies. But if this fact is too shocking for you all, don’t worry about it. I won’t do it again.”

“Nooooo!” Fitz wailed.

“Skye, now wait a moment! Of course we believe you,” Jemma hastily added. “We were just surprised, that’s all. Your cookies are amazing. Right, everyone?”

Coulson chimed right in, “Best I’ve ever had.”

“Pretty good,” grunted May.

Skye smiled triumphantly. “Well then. If you guys liked them so much, I guess I’ll have to keep making them.”

“Yaaaaaaay!!” Fitz cheered and everyone else smiled.

“Definitely,” affirmed Jemma.

 

The cookies didn’t come very often, they were busy with missions and official business and all, plus all the training she was doing to become a SHIELD agent. But on special occasions, they definitely made an appearance.

 

On Fitz’s birthday, he came down to the lab that morning to find a giant bouquet of cookies. They were all different science related shapes: a beaker, a couple of test tubes, several tiles from the Periodic Table of Elements, a couple of atoms, and even a lab coat. (Plus a couple of monkeys, just for fun.) Fitz’s squealing was loud enough to echo throughout the BUS, confusing half the occupants. But Skye just smiled softly to herself as she continued her study of the SHIELD handbook. 

 

After they got Coulson back, when no one was feeling very good, Skye made up a special batch. The smiley faces were definitely needed.

 

Jemma begged Skye to give her the recipe, so she could make them as well. After all, baking is just chemistry, so she could easily handle it. Skye wrote down the measurements and directions and let Jemma try it. Jemma worked hard, followed everything closely, but somehow they just didn’t come out the same as Skye’s. There was a certain something missing, but she couldn’t figure it out. Skye complimented her efforts, but remained mum on the secret behind them. 

 

There was a tin in the kitchen, where Skye kept a few cookies all the time. She’d notice when it was running low (which miraculously wasn’t all the time) and would re-stock it. She was pretty sure Fitz and Coulson were the main partakers. May indulged on occasion and Jemma had a sweet tooth as well, but it was nothing compared to the love that Fitz and Coulson had for the cookies. The only person who didn’t seem to like them was Ward. She’d seen a few too many eye rolls and heard a few too many scoffs and lectures about the empty calories in sugar and how it would just make her crash harder later. It nagged at her that he didn’t like them. Her cookies were fantastic! And if even May ate them, then why couldn’t her uptight SO enjoy them as well? The cookies were good enough for the team to come to the consensus that Skye no longer had to be (or should be) in charge of cooking, as long as she made the cookies for them. But she refused to say anything to him. She wasn’t going to whine and demand to know why her didn’t like her cookies.

Late one night, Skye couldn’t sleep. She was still unsettled from their trip to Utah and helping Hannah. She crept out to the kitchen, thinking she’d grab a drink and maybe work on something at the Command Center, since sleep wasn’t happening. But as she came around the corner, she was met by a very unexpected sight.

Ward blinked back at her, clearly as shocked as she was, with the tin in one hand, and the other stuffing a cookie in his mouth. His jaw dropped and a few crumbs fell out.

“Ward?” she asked incredulously. “What on earth are you doing?”

He quickly swallowed the mouthful of cookie and stammered, “Umm…..just grabbing a snack?”

“But a cookie? What about all empty calories and processed sugar?”

He flushed and couldn’t quite meet her eyes. He mumbled something so quietly that she didn’t catch it.

“Come again?”

He gulped and tried again, “They’re just so good that it’s worth it.”

Skye stared at him for a minute, processing what he just said, before she burst into laughter. She doubled over and it was a couple minutes until she could catch her breath again. Ward was starting to get concerned, when she finally straightened up, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I can’t believe it’s been you this whole time! I totally thought it was Fitz or Coulson who was eating the cookies.”

“Well, to be fair, they dip in here quite a bit themselves. But yeah….. It’s mostly me.” He was so clearly embarrassed, it was adorable.

Skye took pity on the specialist. “Don’t worry, Ward. Your secret is safe with me.”

He looked up in relief. “Really?”

“Of course,” she said. “Now that I know my cookies have won over the Robot too, I’ll make sure you always have a stash. But,” she warned, wagging a finger at him. “I do not want to hear one more word about how unhealthy they are or I take away all your cookie privileges. Do you understand me?”

Ward quickly nodded his understanding. “Not a word.”

Skye smiled in satisfaction. “Alright then, we have a deal.”

 

After that, there was always a special tin in Ward’s bunk with a few cookies in it. The robot ones were his favorites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually the first moment I came up with, when chatting with Evie one day. I was tickled by the idea of Skye sucking at cooking, but having this amazing talent at cookies and knowing just when they were needed. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! You guys make my day. :-)


	4. Rest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye is dreading going to training. She is in pain and feeling incredibly gross, but she knows not going would just be worse for her down the line. So she drags herself down there. Ward can tell something is wrong right away and is determined to help his rookie feel better.

Skye felt like crap that morning. That’s the long and short of it. She wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, curled up in a ball, ignoring the rest of the world, and sleeping as much as possible. But no, she didn’t get to do that. She had to get up and go workout for an hour, because her SO is a hardass. She knew if she was late, it would only serve to extend her workout and today, she just wanted it over as quickly as possible. So she dragged herself out of bed, into whatever sweats she can find first, and got downstairs right at 5:30 on the dot. 

Ward almost looked surprised at her punctuality, but swallowed his comment once he saw the look on her face. 

“You okay, Skye?” he asked cautiously. 

“Yeah, fine. Let's get this over with,” she dismissed him. 

“Okay…” He agreed but wasn't entirely convinced. 

Within 15 minutes it's obvious he was right to be concerned. She hadn't complained and was following his instructions, but he could see she was lacking any energy and he even caught her wincing a couple times while she was standing still. 

“That's it, we're done,” he informed her gruffly. 

“What?!” she cried. “I am doing exactly what you say! Come on, let's just finish.”

“No, Skye,” he said, a bit more gently this time. “You're obviously in pain and training while you're hurt or sick will just make it harder to heal, and might even make it worse. You need to rest.”

“Oh.” The realization that he wasn't frustrated with her (that's new!) but actually looking out for her dawned on her. 

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong? I might be able to help. I've had pretty much every injury you can imagine.”

“Yeah….pretty sure you haven't had this,” she snarked.

“Try me,” he prodded. 

She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, challenging him. “Fine, Ward. Please tell me how you recovered from menstrual cramps.”

He blinked at her for a moment, then nodded and said, as if it was the most normal thing ever, “Just like any other muscle cramps. Heat and rest. So Rookie, go change if you want, then meet me in the lounge. It's a rest day.”

Skye's jaw dropped. Was this the same SO that seemed to take pleasure in making her work out so hard she can barely move? The one who constantly sighed over her lack of discipline? The robot who didn't seem to remember boys and girls have different parts and told her to pee in a bottle? She eyed him closely, looking all around him. 

“What are you doing? I thought you'd have run the moment you had the chance.”

“I'm looking for the edges of the mask, because clearly you've been replaced by a pod person.”

Ward pinched the bridge of his nose. “Would you rather practice hand to hands maneuvers or sit on the couch for an hour?”

“Couch, for sure!”

“Then go get ready and I'll see you there in a few minutes.”

With that, Skye scrambled up the stairs and into her bunk. She swapped out the baggy t-shirt and sports bra for a comfy tank top and hoodie. But the sweatpants stayed. (The navy blue, mens size large sweatpants that she'd mysteriously acquired a couple weeks ago.)

When she came back out to the lounge, Ward was popping something into the DVD player. He waved behind him, “Go ahead and sit down. The heating pad should be getting warm by now.”

Skye looked at the couch to see not only the heating pad, plugged in and sitting on her favorite spot, but also the giant fuzzy blanket that she loved the most and usually had to fight Fitz for. She sat down, pulling the hot pad against her aching abdomen. Immediately, the pain decreased drastically. It was such a dramatic change, she moaned in relief. “Thank you, Ward,” she told him as he sat down next to her. 

“Here, thought this might help too.” 

There in his hands was her favorite chocolate bar. Skye's eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him (damn hormones). “Really?”

He smiled softly at her, “Really. Now I thought Lilo & Stitch might be a good option.”

“Perfect.”

She nestled in on the couch, heating pad, blanket, chocolate, and adorable SO all working to make her feel much better. An hour into the movie they had both shifted enough that she was leaning against his shoulder. He stole a glance or two at her. Seeing her relaxed posture and hearing her quiet chuckles caused a small smile to creep across his face as well. 

After the movie, he announced it was time for strategy training, since they weren't doing physical training that day. 

“Awww, come on Ward! We were having such a nice morning too. You said it was Rest Day!”

“Physical rest, yes. I never did anything about resting our minds. Just trust me, okay?” He helped her up off the couch and led her over to the seats by the windows. She was still looking at him warily, but sat down without further argument. 

She laughed hard when he pulled out Battleship. “The last time wasn't enough for you? You really want me to humiliate you again at this?” she teased. 

“Beginner's luck.”

“Riiiiiight. I mean, if this is what you want, sure. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She winked at him and he chuckled. It occurred to her, not for the first time, how nice his laugh was. She resolved to get that sound out of him as often as she could. He was so serious all the time, he deserved to smile and laugh. He took care of her today, the least she could do was return the favor. 

Three rounds later, Ward was quite chagrined to admit Skye was, in fact, the Queen of Battleship. (She literally made him say that, even through gritted teeth.)


	5. And You're Here Because....?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye's hair is a problem and gets her into all sorts of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the result of an idea I had for a Bus Moment plus a ficlet prompt from Alkeni ("And you're here because....?). I decided to be greedy and combine them so that I could get it written.

It had been a perfectly lovely shower. The water was plentiful and warm. Enough time to really relax, even shave her legs. And there was her new shampoo & conditioner.  


Ward had actually picked them up the day before on the last supply trip. He had mumbled something about noticing hers were almost out and having gotten them for her, before practically dropping them in his attempts to hand them over and scurrying away. (Like she wasn't going to notice the slight blush on his cheeks.) When she looked at them a little closer, her cheeks burned a little pink as well. It was jasmine ‘strengthening’ conditioner. Once again, she was reminded, quite vigorously, that nothing, and she really means _nothing_ , escapes Ward’s attention.

Jemma had teased her on several occasions that she had to do something about her hair, because it was always falling out. Really, it wasn’t falling out anymore than anyone else’s, it’s just that hers is really noticeable, being so long and dark. It’s why she kept getting stuck with bathroom cleaning (though she was trying to get better about cleaning up after herself!). So Ward had gotten her conditioner that promised to build up the strength in her hair and prevent breakage. And it was jasmine. _Suspicion confirmed._

Skye is good at patterns. It's why she excelled in coding and hacking. She could detect and figure out subtle patterns that most people were unaware of, then exploit them to achieve her goals. And it had not gotten past her that Ward liked jasmine. She had several different lotions that she'd use any given day. But she'd started noticing that the days she wore the ‘sensual’ jasmine scented one, Ward was just a little softer with her. He'd let her get away with 15 reps instead of demanding 20. His tone would be a little more gentle as he gave corrections. When he adjusted her form, he would stand just a hair closer, his hands would linger just a second longer. It was a bit heady, knowing that something as simple as lotion could change him, even if in tiny, almost unnoticeable ways. But Skye knew better than to overplay her hand but using that advantage too often. 

When he handed her those bottles, she just knew she hadn't been wrong. Which is why she took the very first opportunity to use them. The shower had been amazing and the new hair products smelled divine. If she wasn't mistaken, her hair was softer and less of it came out as she blow dried it. Ward was better at this than she'd expected. But in that haze of unexpected delight, things began to go wrong. 

She was in the bathroom again, curling her hair. Contrary to popular belief, she didn't just roll out of bed with this impressive mane. It took careful and a considerable amount of time with a curling iron to get just right. She had done this many times, but you couldn't exactly go into auto-pilot mode when wielding a hot metal wand near your face. Skye let her mind wander off for just a moment, but a split second is all it takes for disaster to strike. Then things moved very quickly.

The scream she let out was loud enough to wake the dead. Skye let out a streak of curses that would make a sailor blush. She threw the offending styling tool down on the counter and swept her hair over her shoulder. Just as she was reaching for the faucet, the door crashed open, and Ward fell through it. Straight onto her. Knocking both of them to the ground. Eliciting another shriek from her and a shout from him.

Before either of them could even say anything or move, another person appeared in the doorway.

Coulson took one look at the scene before him: Ward sprawled out on top of Skye, Skye with a red mark glowing on her neck, limbs tangled together, and narrowed his eyes at the specialist. “And you’re here because….?” he spoke in a deadly voice.

They quickly scrambled apart and stood up, neither of them wanting to make eye contact with the other.

“I swear, AC, it isn’t what it looks like,” Skye began.

“I heard her scream,” Ward offered.

“And that convinced you that the proper protocol was to tackle her and _is that a hickey?!_ ” Coulson screeched.

“NO!!!” they yelled in unison.

Skye found herself thinking that now would be a spectacular time to be struck by lightning. She was sure her face was as red as the burn on her neck.

Ward kept his face neutral, but was wondering it was possible to actually melt through the floor out of sheer embarrassment.

“I burned myself with my curling iron,” Skye explained, since she seemed to be in possession of more of the facts. “Hence the scream and swearing.”

“And I was worried she was hurt or in danger,” Ward said.

“You thought she was being attacked? In the bathroom? On the Bus? While it’s 40,000 feet in the air? Over the Indian Ocean?” The disbelief was painted all over Coulson’s face.

Ward sheepishly ducked his head. “Well, now that you say it that way…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Skye broke in, “AC, it’s fine. He was just looking out for me. It’s all my fault for being clumsy anyway.”

“Are you okay?” the senior agent asked. “Do you need Simmons to look at the burn?”

“I’m fine. It’s not anything I haven’t done before or won’t do again. Hazards of curling your hair, happens to every girl at some point.” Skye shrugged off the concern. “If it blisters I’ll make sure Simmons checks it out, okay?”

“Okay,” Coulson agreed reluctantly. “But be more careful next time.”  
“I totally will. Probably won’t be curling my hair for awhile. Braids and ponytails it is. Now how about you all go back to your regularly scheduled...whatever you were doing, and let me clean up in here?”

“If you’re sure you’re okay,” Coulson said. Skye nodded, so he took his leave, but not before shooting a glare at Ward.

“Sorry for getting you in trouble,” Skye started, hazarding a glance at Ward.

He smiled just a tiny bit. “No big deal; I’ve been through worse. Plus it’s Coulson, he doesn’t know how to hold a grudge.”

“Thanks for coming to rescue me,” she teased. “That curling iron definitely deserves to be beat up a little bit.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure it’s very sorry for all the trouble it caused.”

Skye laughed outright at that. “Well, at least it didn’t burn my hair off. My skin will heal a lot faster than the hair would grow back.”

“Let us all be thankful for that. Like we need more of your hair flying around in here,” he joked back.

“Hey!” she cried indignantly. “I’ll have you know there is less hair in here now, thanks to that new conditioner. Which, by the way, I really do want to thank you for. It’s perfect.”

Ward’s eyes lost their mischievous look and took on a softer look, while a blush started to creep up in his cheeks. “Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” he stammered.

Skye smothered a giggle at his awkwardness. “Okay, well, I’m just going to put everything away. I promise there are no secret ninjas in here lurking about, I’m safe.”

“Alright then. See you on the other side.”

After Ward left and Skye was finally alone, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes in mortification. How was this her life? She is dumb and burns herself, her SO-come-friend practically tackles her to the ground, and then her boss finds them in that compromising position. Humiliation and a burn to boot! But hey, at least she knew there was someone willing to defend her from stowaway thugs or scalding hair styling tools. That was its own kind of benefit.


	6. Maybe no one told you there is strength in your tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither one of them is used to depending on anyone else, but when faced with events that shake them each deeply, they learn that maybe they can open up to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by an idea from Ves, then a request from Northern Wolf. Thank you for your patience with me as I took a long time to write it. That was both just a product of circumstance and on purpose. I wanted to establish a little more of their friendship before they could get to this point, but I think they're ready for it now.

Skye woke up with a gasp and a sob strangled in her throat. Her hand braced against the wall, desperate to feel something, anything to ground her in reality. Something to assure her that she was safe on the BUS and not at the mercy of an evil billionaire. It took a few minutes of heavy breathing before she started to feel any sort of control over herself again. She laid back down, to try to get more rest. But every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the fury on Quinn’s face when he realized she’d played him. In the moment, she had set that aside in order to find a way out of the crazy situation she was in. It had worked, she had gotten out safely, thanks in no small part to Ward. But now, in the dark, after the adrenaline had bled off and she was able to process what happened, she was terrified. Things could have gone so differently. Her fingers drifted up to her neck, where the skin was still tender from where he’d grabbed her. There wasn’t an obvious bruise, but she still could feel his hands tightening around her throat. Sure, he’d let her go without a serious attempt at strangling her, but it had quickly been replaced by a gun in her face. It was only because of that one move Ward had insisted she learn that she’d managed to get away before he seriously injured her ( _or worse...._ ). 

After several minutes of tossing and turning and only ratcheting up her own anxiety, Skye couldn’t take it anymore. She had to get up, go somewhere else, find something to distract her. Anything to take her mind of off the mission in Malta. She threw back her blankets and padded out to the kitchen. Rifling through the cupboards and the fridge didn’t yield anything she really wanted. With a heavy sigh, she closed the fridge door and made her way over to one of the seats next to the window. Skye settled down, pulling her knees up to her chest, and stared out the window.

“Skye?”

She jumped rather violently, turning to look at the intruder. 

Ward held up his hands immediately, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” she said quietly, turning back to the window.

“Are you okay?” he questioned, concern pinching between his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” she replied automatically.

“Really? It’s not like you to be up at 3am.”

Skye shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I just couldn’t stop thinking about….. Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Ward sat down in the chair across from her. “It’s not stupid. Clearly it upset you enough to keep you up. Want to tell me about it?”

She shook her head. Ward sat back and looked out his own window, content to just sit in silence.

When she started speaking, her voice was the quietest he’d ever heard it. “I could have died.”

The simple statement hung in the air between them. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move to acknowledge what she said. But she knew he was listening anyway.

“I thought I had it under control, that it would be no big deal. I didn’t want to listen to you, when you were telling me things could go bad. I barely learned that one move! What if he hadn’t moved in the exact way for me to use that? What if I hadn’t gotten away when I did? What if you hadn’t made it in to come find me? What if he’d lost his patience faster and shot me?” She finally turned to look at her, with tears shining in her eyes, the fear written all over her face.

He held her gaze. “You’re right.”

She gaped at him. 

“You weren’t as prepared as you should have been. It could have gone a lot worse. You could have ended up really hurt or not made it out at all.”

“Wow, Ward. I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but you kinda suck at comforting people.” A bit of her characteristic spunk was returning as she teased him.

“Hear me out. All of those things could have happened. _But they didn’t._ You had the skills you needed to get out of there, you had the opportunity to use them, I did get there in time, and he didn’t lose his patience. You got out safe. Things didn’t go perfectly, but they went well enough. Take the win, Skye. They don’t come easy or all the time, so appreciate them when you get them. And next time? You’ll be better prepared. You’ll have better skills and knowledge and be in a better position to handle it if things go south. You can’t change what did or didn’t happen in the past. But you _can_ use that to motivate you for the future.”  


Skye thought over what he said. He had a point. She had made it out, they all had. She was safe now and she certainly wasn’t going to take a risk like that again. At least not without doing everything she could to mitigate it. Skye wasn’t one for feeling helpless. She made her own way in life and wasn’t about to stop now.

“I take it back. You’re not half bad at this,” she said with a smile.

He gave her a small smile back before ducking his head. “Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah, I think I can. In fact, I’ll go try now.” 

“Good, because we still have training at 6am,” he said firmly.

Skye groaned as she stood up. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And pushups for every minute you’re late.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll be there.” She was about to step away, when she stopped, turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Really though, Ward? Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

She bent down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before scurrying off to her bunk, as if she was embarrassed by her own actions.

Ward sat there, stunned by the gesture, for a few more minutes. Then a smile slowly spread across his face.

* * * * * * * 

It had been two days since they had let Professor Randolph go. Two days since the church in Seville. Two days since the hordes of paganists in the church in Dublin. Two days since the Berserker Staff.

Two days since Ward had gotten even a minute of peace or rest. 

He had slept, but it wasn’t anything close to what you would call restful. At least now he wasn’t hearing Thomas’ voice or seeing his panicked face constantly. Only when he closed his eyes or stopped doing anything long enough for his brain to quiet. When he did manage to sleep, it never lasted much longer than an hour, before the adrenaline from his memories woke up him and kept him up for twice as long as he slept.

That was why he was sitting out in the cabin of the BUS, staring out the window. He had tried to read, desperate for something to distract his mind, but it didn’t work. The book laid next to him, almost mocking him. He thought about going downstairs to work out, but May had been right. All that did was increase his anger and feed into the Fight-or-Flight response he could barely keep at bay. Maybe he would take her up on her offer of tai-chi in the morning. But for right now, everyone was asleep, so whatever he did had to be quiet.

He was mentally disassembling and reassembling his sidearm for the thirteenth time when he heard the soft footsteps coming towards him. He was conflicted. Ward knew exactly who was coming down the hallway, and he had a pretty good idea of why, but he couldn’t decide between not wanting her to see him like this and the craving he had for her presence. Throughout that whole first day, she was the one person who not only didn’t shy away from him, but went to him immediately when she saw he needed help. She had been so concerned about him, opening up to him and giving him a warm, comforting place to land if he wanted to talk. He had turned her down that night, but he still wasn’t sure he had made the right decision. Nevertheless, she had kept a close eye on him since then. Perhaps not overtly, not pressuring or crowding him, but quietly observing him and somehow just letting him know she was there. 

Her footsteps slowed when she was a couple steps away, like she was hesitating on disturbing him or not. He couldn’t see her, since she was behind him, but he could just imagine the look of indecision that was on her face, as well as the determination that overtook it when she finally started moving again.

“Here,” she said, offering him a mug.

“What’s this?” he asked, accepting it from her. It was warm and covered in whipped cream.

“Hot chocolate. I find it helps me calm down when I can’t sleep,” she replied.

“Who said I can’t sleep?” he grumbled, just a little more defensively than he meant.

She fixed him with a look. “Ward, it’s 2:30am and you’ve been out here for over an hour. It doesn’t take a genius or a Level 7 Specialist to see the dark circles under your eyes. You haven’t been sleeping much at all.”

He looked away again, almost embarrassed that he hadn’t been covering it up as well as he thought he had. 

Skye’s voice softened, “But it’s no wonder. In fact, it’s rather impressive how well you’ve been coping with it all.”

He wasn’t sure what to say back. Coping well? He wanted to laugh in the face of that assessment. He felt he was constantly on a knife’s edge, trying to block out the memories and focus on his job, but being too keyed up and haunted to concentrate. It was both terrifying and exhausting, yet sleep was so hard to come by. Sure he was trying to keep a lid on it, he didn't need to go around telling everyone. But how he actually felt- how could that be considered coping well? 

So he said nothing, just kept his focus on the window. Skye settled back into her seat, staring out at the sky as well. As the moments ticked by in companionable silence, Ward was equal parts impressed and surprised by Skye’s quiet. For someone who seemed to always be talking, she didn’t seem to be in a rush to speak. It was refreshing to not be expected to join in with whatever conversation was whirling around her. 

Yet he found that lack of expectation freeing. He _wanted_ to say something, wanted to fill the silence. The overwhelming desire to say something, to have someone else help carry this weight, filled him. He kept everything so locked down, the idea of letting even a little bit of it out was dizzying. 

“There was an old well, out on the edge of the property behind our house,” he said lowly. 

If Skye found his statement random, she didn't show it. She simply turned to look at him, giving him her attention but not pushing him to continue. Her calm, open expression gave him what he needed to keep going. 

“Tommy and I were back there one day, just trying to get away from Christian. But he found us anyway. He was mad at us for something dumb, we'd used an old toy of his that he hadn't touched in years, or something ridiculous like that, I can't even remember. But he'd snuck up behind us and before either of us knew he was there, Christian pushed Tommy into the well.”

Skye covered her mouth with her hand, but still said nothing. Sympathy shone out of her eyes. Ward felt the urge the flinch away from it, he didn't deserve it, but he couldn't deny wanting to let it wrap around him. 

“He was only 7 years old and hadn't mastered swimming yet, let alone treading water for a long time. I tried to grab a rope to get him out, but Christian stopped me. He said Tommy had to learn. ‘Not yet, Grant,’ he kept saying. But Tommy was screaming for help. I could hear him panicking, but was frozen.”

Skye moved from her seat across from him to the one next to him and put her hand on his arm, comfortingly. He looked down at her small hand before meeting her gaze with anguished eyes. 

“By the time I got him out, Christian had run. Tommy never saw him, only me. He thought it was me. He thought I was the one who pushed him and wouldn't let him back up. That was the day my little brother stopped trusting me. The day we both knew I couldn't protect him.”

His last admission came out in a whisper and he looked away, unable to bear seeing the judgment he was sure was in her face. That's when she surprised him. She slid her hand from his arm, down to his own palm and gently unclenched the fist he had made, interlacing their fingers. 

“It wasn't your fault,” she began. He scoffed, but she carried on. “No, really. How old were you?”

“Eleven, almost twelve.”

“Eleven! You were a child yourself! What were you supposed to do?”

“I should have stopped Christian! I should have gotten Thomas out of there sooner! I should have protected him! That was my job!” he cried angrily. 

“Grant, no,” she grabbed his other hand as well, so he was forced to look at her. “That was your parents’ job, to protect both of you, all of you really. Heaven knows they failed at it spectacularly. And think about it. What would have happened if you had really tried to challenge your older, bigger, much meaner brother?”  


Ward thought for a moment but didn't say anything. 

“He probably would have thrown you in as well. And then both of you would have been trapped in that well with no one waiting to rescue you, let alone even knowing where you were. You wouldn't have been able to get out and you both would have eventually drowned. So what you did, actually _saved_ your little brother that day. Because you backed off for a little bit, you were still there to get him out and keep him safe.”

Ward stared at her in disbelief. How could she think that? Why wasn't she blaming him and running in fear?

She gave his hands a little squeeze. “You protect people now. And you're damn good at it,” she smiled at him. “So don't compare Kid Grant, in an impossible situation, to SHIELD Agent Grant Ward, with years of training and experience. If you were in that situation today, with all your skills, you'd take care of that asshole in a hot second.”

Ward cracked a little smirk at that. 

“So, don't beat yourself up over something you couldn't and still can't control. I seem to remember someone wise telling me to, and I quote, ‘use that to motivate you for the future’.”

“Wise, eh?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. 

She rolled her eyes, but huffed a laugh. “I mean, kinda, I guess. But obviously not that wise, since he thinks getting up at 5:00am is a fun time.”

This time Ward joined her in the chuckle. “Which speaking of, training is coming up soon.”

She groaned loudly, “You're kidding me, right? Why does it anyways come back to training?”

“How else are you supposed to get all those years of experience?”

She just stuck her tongue out at him, then looked at him seriously. “Are you sure you're going to be okay?”

“You know,” he said thoughtfully. “I think I will.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Skye.”

She smiled softly at him. “Anytime, Robot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will admit, I finished this a day or so ago, but I held off on publishing it, because I wanted to put something out for my birthday (Wednesday). I hope it was worth the wait. :)


	7. No Green Eyes Here, I swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ward is undercover at a gala and Skye has some feelings about it.  Not that she’ll admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This delightful prompt “Wait a minute.  Are you jealous?” came from agentsofsunnydale.  I knew I wanted to write a new BUS Moment, because egads!  It’s been a year since I published anything in this story.  But it took a little bit of work to figure out the right spin on it, because thus far in this story, Skye and Ward haven’t quite become Skyeward.  And there are more stories I want to tell before they get there.  But I hope this works well enough.

The tinkle of crystal, the strains of a classical string quartet, and the low buzz of chatter filtered through the comms speakers, giving the room an ambience that conflicted with its visual appearance.  There were certainly no waiters in tails, handing out fancy, impossible-to-pronounce appetizers, or designer ballgowns and jewelry worth more than three SUVs like the one in the cargo bay below her.  The Command Center looked the same as ever: huge monitors, display table, SHIELD grey walls, and panel windows looking out into the cabin.  And only herself, Simmons, and Coulson present. Fitz was down in the lab tinkering, or rather, working on some very important project as he'd made sure to inform her. May was running backup in a van, ready to swoop in if trouble arose. Not that anyone expected there to be much trouble. 

The mission was simple. Ward had worked his way into a gala, in no small part to Skye's hacking of the guest list, and only needed to sweet talk the wife of one of the guests into telling him where her husband had moved the Kandinsky painting he’d recently acquired.  The man had ties to Ian Quinn and they had reason to suspect he was smuggling information to Quinn via moving art around the globe.  There could have been any number of places he’d moved the piece to, as he had homes and offices all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas.  If they just knew which location it was at, they could narrow their search for Quinn. So far, it seemed to be going swimmingly.  Ward had only been chatting with her for 10 minutes and she was clearly responding to the attention just as they'd hoped. Coulson was smiling because it seemed like it would only be a couple more minutes until they had some actionable intelligence. 

A warm chuckle from Ward echoed through the room and was quickly joined by tinny laughter from the target.  
     
Skye rolled her eyes.  “This chick is an idiot. I can't believe she's falling for his act. It's not even that good and she's practically drooling all over his jacket,” she snarked. 

“Oh, I don't know about that. You can't deny that Agent Ward can be quite persuasive when he wants to be. He is one of the top specialists in SHIELD, and missions like this are especially catered to his skill set. The whole point is to have her fall for it, so he can get the information and no one is hurt. Isn't that we want?”

“She still has a horse face,” Skye grumbled. 

“A what?” Jemma asked, brow furrowed in complete confusion. “I don't see anything particularly equine about her features. Perhaps you could say that- wait a minute. Are you-” Jemma looked around to see if Coulson was watching them, then lowered her voice, “-jealous?” 

Skye’s cheeked immediately flushed and she stammered, “What?! No! What do you mean? Why would I be- NO! I'm not jealous.”

“Well, you didn't have a problem with this when it was supposed to be Agent May talking to the husband. But when the objective changed to Ward getting the information from Mrs. Huntington, you seemed to be annoyed.”

“I'm annoyed on his behalf. Can you imagine how painful it must be to have to listen to her inane drivel, just to find out the location? No, this is definitely pity, _not_ jealousy.” Skye grimaced, trying to sell her point, but she couldn't quite seem to meet Simmons’ eyes. 

Jemma eyed her friend a little more closely, cataloging her responses and comparing them against past behavior.  Interactions between the two had changed from intentional barbs, trying to needle one another just to get a rise or prove a point, and settled into a comfortable, friendly teasing banter. What had once been adversarial had now morphed into camaraderie.  But as she thought about it, Jemma started to recognize more. How they seemed to gravitate to the same place in the room, how they looked to each other first when there were questions, how they'd each expressed more concern about the other’s safety than in the beginning. It had been so slow and subtle enough that Simmons hadn't really picked up on it until just now. However, Skye's pink tinged cheeks and vehement reaction to the woman currently on the receiving end of Ward's attentions told the biochemist that it was more than just a platonic affection for a colleague. 

“Skye, it’s perfectly fine if you are jealous,” she admonished.  “After all, you two spend a lot of time together, in close quarters.  And I’m sure there’s been no inappropriate touching, but really, who could blame you?  His features are quite symmetrical and your proportions are rather attractive to the male gaze.  It would only seem natural that-”

“Oh my gosh, Jemma, shut up!” Skye hissed.  “Coulson is going to hear you and I _really_ don’t want to have to explain that one.”

“Sorry,” Jemma whispered.  They both glanced over at their leader, but he seemed absorbed enough in the documents he was sifting through.  

“Listen,” Skye said, softening.  “Even if I am jealous, which I am not admitting to, it doesn’t matter anyway.  Ward is all no nonsense, by the book, a total boy scout, and I’m sure there are a million SHIELD regulations against anything along those lines.  Plus  there’s no way he’s even thinking anything close to that.  So it’s a moot point.”

“Oh Skye, that doesn’t change how you feel.”

“Please, Jemma.” Skye looked at her with pleading eyes.  “Don’t mention it again, okay?  It just….doesn’t need to be a thing.”

Simmons nodded.  “Alright, if that’s what you want.  I just think that-”

“Coulson, I’ve got the location,” Ward’s voice broke through on the comms.  “I’m heading to rendezvous with May.  We’ll be back at the BUS in about 20 minutes.”

“Copy that, Agent Ward,” Coulson responded, activating the comms in the room.  “Great work.  We’ll see you when you get back.”

“Roger,” was the short reply.  “Signing off.”

The CO turned back to the younger agents and nodded at them.  “I’ll be up in my office until they get back.”  With that, he exited the room, leaving the two women alone.

Drawn back to the task at hand, Skye started shutting down the programs for the op and tidying up the displays.  Sensing no change in her friend’s focus, Skye sighed.  “I can _hear_ you thinking.  Seriously, let it go.  There’s nothing going on and nothing that ever will go on.  End of story.”

A smile, that would have been a smirk on anyone else even an iota less genuinely kind than Jemma, appeared.  “If you say so.”  Her eyes practically twinkled and told Skye that there was no way the subject would actually be dropped for long.

 

True to his word, Ward and May were back on the bus in just under 20 minutes and they were in the air shortly after that, heading to the newly discovered location.  

After checking on Fitz, who was still completely focused on his project, Simmons headed back upstairs to seek out Skye and Ward.  Just outside the galley, she paused, hearing their voices.  Peeking in she saw Ward, having swapped out the tuxedo for a comfortable t-shirt and jeans, busying himself assembling a sandwich.  Skye was perched on the counter nearby, handing things over as he requested.  Something about the scene made Jemma hold off on joining them.  So instead, she listened in.

“Don’t you wish you could attend fancy events like that all the time?” Skye joked.  “Fancy food, lots of booze, glamorous women draping themselves all over you.”

Ward groaned.  “Not even in the slightest.  One, the food is all in tiny portions and so dressed up, you’re not even sure what it is supposed to be.  Hence why I’m making a sandwich now.  Two, I don’t drink when I’m on the job, and even when I’m off the clock, I don’t like it that much.  And third, glamorous or not, it’s rare anyone at those parties has anything worth saying.  I mean, didn’t you hear her?  I don’t think she said one interesting thing, even by accident.”

A laugh erupted from Skye.  “Oh come on, Ward.  It wasn’t at least a tiny bit gratifying to have someone hanging on your every word?”

Simmons couldn’t see, but hearing Skye’s giggles intensify in pitch and volume, she could only imagine the glare Ward was giving at that moment.

“Okay you win,” Skye said, still chuckling.  “I won’t drag you off to any black tie affairs.”

“Well, that would be a whole different ball game there, Rookie.  Somehow I have feel you’d figure out a way to make _that_ an experience.”

 _Ward not thinking that, my hind foot_ , Jemma thought.  


End file.
